


Mr. & Mrs. Stevenson

by Huntress79



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Natasha Romanov, F/M, Fake Marriage, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Post-Avengers (2012), Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 09:23:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20207440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress79/pseuds/Huntress79
Summary: In theory, it should be just another undercover mission, like she had done dozens before. But in real, this could be the starting point for something she never expected to happen. Or: how to fall for your colleague in 10 days (or something like that).





	Mr. & Mrs. Stevenson

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SinginInTheRaine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinginInTheRaine/gifts).

> Written for [HetSwap Exchange](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HetSwap2019) and [SinginInTheRaine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinginInTheRaine/pseuds/SinginInTheRaine). Set at some point after “The Avengers”, but ignores pretty everything coming afterwards. Oh, and Phil Coulson didn't die in "The Avengers". Hope you like it! Enjoy!

*********************

For the first since she had defected to S.H.I.E.L.D., Natasha was looking forward to a mission briefing. Being holed up in the infirmary for more than two weeks, thanks to a goon who thought twisting ankles is fun, would do that to anyone, even one of the best spies in the world.

But at long last, she finally could walk without any limp at all, had even started running with Clint on the weekends (well, he drove his bike and she ran along, but that’s just details)

“Welcome back, Natasha.”

The soft, yet firm timbre of Phil Coulson’s voice brought Natasha back to reality. Their team leader was standing in the doorway to one of the many, many conference rooms of their headquarters here in New York City, a bemused smile on his lips.

“What’s so funny?”

“You.” Natasha’s answer was a raised eyebrow. “Or better the fact that I finally ‘caught’ you in a moment of speechlessness,” Phil gave back with a smirk.

“Well, Coulson, store this moment well and nice in your brain, cause it will not happen again,” Nat advised while passing him and entering the conference room – only to be stopped dead in her tracks when she saw who was in the room as well.

Steve Rogers.

Aka Captain America.

Aka the man who dominated most of her thoughts when she was alone and allowed herself to let her guard down, just a little bit.

_Bohze moi._

“Hey, Natasha.” Steve got up, and before Natasha even had the chance to prep herself for it, she was engulfed in a (gentle) bear hug (which she absolutely didn’t mind at all). Too soon for her liking, Steve pulled back, held her at arm’s length and gave her a once-over.

“You’re sure you’re ready to go back in the field?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” She gave him a genuine smile. “You know me, I can’t be holed up somewhere, not being able to do anything than wait.”

If possible, the smile on Steve’s face got even bigger at her attempt on humor – which in turn made something within her go gooey. Dang it, was he even aware that he could render whole armies useless with a smile like that?

Behind them, Phil Coulson cleared his throat as audible as possible, and with just a tiny bit of reluctance, they split and took their seats at the table. In no time at all, they were informed that apparently, some of the Chitauri tech from the Battle of New York had ended up in small town south of Chicago. And since the main suspect lived in an upper-class neighborhood, it meant undercover work.

Under different circumstances, Natasha would have had to hide a laugh behind a cough upon seeing Steve’s face when Coulson explained that the two were going to be newlyweds for the case. And was that a blush rising up on his neck?

Though, truth be told, she could somewhat relate to Steve’s reaction. Only for her, it was more a test for her self-control than anything else. Faking being married to a virtual stranger? Piece of cake. She had done that many times before. But faking being married to Steve? Sweet Jesus, she probably would hoard all the cold water at their temporary living quarters to make it through the assignment.

On the downside, Natasha wasn’t quite sure if Steve really was the best choice for this kind of missions. Sure, he was your go-to guy for both tactics and hand-to-hand combat, but from what she had gathered from both Steve’s old SSR files and his No. 1 fan Phil Coulson, he was NOT the best actor. And for pulling an assignment like that off successfully, you needed at least some acting talent. But, so Natasha concluded as Coulson ended the briefing, if push came to shove, she would wing the whole thing on her own, somehow.

*********************

Not even 24 hours later, the two were standing in front of their new home, a lovely one-story house with a small garden in front, practical screaming “American suburb” that it made even Steve cringe.

Anyway, they had a job to do, after all, so they both set up shop in the house. According to their aliases, George Stevenson was an advertising designer, while his wife Nora was a real estate agent, working most of the time from home. Recently, George had lost his job in a New York agency, which was why they moved back to Illinois, Nora’s homestead, to try and start anew.

Within an hour after arriving, they met the Grahams, living right next to them. Their intel so far had labeled Alan as their main suspect, but Natasha wouldn’t exclude his wife, Lauralee, at all. Being trained in all kinds of manipulation and deception finally paid off, somehow, and it was clear to Nat that Alan was rather a puppet on a string in Lauralee’s hands than anything else.

Steve apparently got the same impression, and so they hatched a plan. While Natasha would work with some agents from the Chicago field office of S.H.I.E.L.D. acting as clients and keep an eye on Lauralee, Steve would accept Alan’s invite to their local poker club and get the other man’s trust.

*********************

Though by the end of their first week, Natasha was close to killing someone. Lauralee was topping that list, if only for her constant attempts on getting further into the house than only the living room. Apparently, as a talk at the supermarket with Gina, one of the other neighbors, revealed, it was the woman’s usual way, so to speak.

Another likely “candidate” for accidental killing was none else than Natasha’s “husband”. You ask why? Because for someone why barely had any experience with real spy work, Steve Rogers was a natural. He had won Alan’s trust in no time, spending almost every evening with the other man, either at the local bar, at the house of one of Alan’s friends, and in one instance, even at the Graham’s own place. A lucky chance, that Steve didn’t waste at all and used a beer run of Alan to the cellar for planting some bugs in the living room. If not for another reason, Natasha actually would be really proud of him.

But, and that was the big but and the main reason for him making second place on her “people I want to kill right now” list, why did he have to act so naïve and innocent all the time? Sure, it helped their case immensely, as no one would believe that the mild-mannered designer with the almost constant smile and so much love for his wife was actually a spy.

Additionally, he apparently had not an ounce of self-consciousness in him, if the regularity of flashing his marble-like abs to her were anything to count for. It was the first thing she got to see in the morning, and except for the second day, the last thing she saw in the evening.

Don’t get her wrong, she had seen quite a lot of men in various states of undressed, and she absolutely didn’t mind seeing more than just a sliver of skin, but none of them was so much like a modern incarnation of the Greek god Adonis as Steve Rogers. Coupled with his almost unnatural blue eyes, the one blond strand of hair that seemingly constantly fell into his forehead, and his outstanding gentlemanly behavior (at least when they were out) made it not only extremely hard for Natasha to keep it all professional, it also made her hot and bothered. And the kisses they shared, most of them in public places so that everyone could see the apparent love they had for each other? Toe-curling, in the best and worst way possible at once.

A quick call to Clint from a burner phone was also no big help, as her best friend just laughed at her (though she really couldn’t be mad at him, never) and told her that, apparently, she was falling in love with Steve. And before Natasha even could think about bringing up her “love is for children” mantra, Clint had ended the call. Traitor.

*********************

It took them almost four weeks more to gather enough evidence against Lauralee, who confessed (but only after Natasha had to chase her through half of their neighborhood, ending with Nat tackling her right in front of the local Country Club) to having bought the piece of Chitauri tech from a scrap dealer in New York, who in turn had simply stolen it from one of the many trucks carrying the debris out of Manhattan. Both Lauralee and Alan were apprehended, along with some guys of the poker club who already had contacted a weapons dealer to suggest a joint venture. Case closed, at least for Steve and Natasha. They both knew that in some way, S.H.I.E.L.D. would keep a foot in the investigation.

At long last, they could return to New York, to their “old” lives. All that was left to do was packing up their belongings. Natasha, coming down the stairs with her suitcase, almost lost her footing when all of a sudden, Steve’s voice appeared from the side of the stairway.

“Hey Nat?”

“Y… Yeah, Steve? Oh, and next time you want to talk to a gal, don’t sneak up on her, even when it’s just with your voice,” Natasha got out around her attempts of bringing her heartbeat back to normal. What the heck was going on with her? She took a steadying breath, set the suitcase down, and turned fully around to him. “You wanted to say something?”

“Yeah. First of all, sorry, I really didn’t mean to scare you…”

“…Apology accepted…”

“…and second, since George and Nora never really had a romantic date in the most literal sense, how about that: we go back to New York, dress up nicely, and I take you out to that little restaurant in Brooklyn I had discovered right before this assignment. What do you say?”

Only now, Natasha noticed that apparently her feet had developed a life of their own, cause suddenly, she was standing at the second to last step, bringing her to almost the same height as Steve.

“Well, I think I’m gonna accept that invitation,” she got a full-blown smile for that, “but only on two conditions.”

“Which are?” He really tried, but somehow, Steve couldn’t quite keep a trace of trepidation out of his voice.

“First: we don’t take a taxi, but your bike.” Steve nodded, it actually was part of the plan to do so, anyway.

“And the second condition?”

Instead of answering right away, Natasha grabbed the lapels of his light brown leather jacket and pulled him a bit closer.

“This might sound a bit high and mighty coming from me, but…”

“But what, Natasha?”

“Did… ah, forget it!”

She tried to push past him, but Steve was faster and stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“What do you want me to forget? The past four weeks, here in this house, sleeping next to you every night, trying to fight the urge to take you into my arms and hold you close? To make love to you till we both couldn’t walk straight for a week? Or should I forget the kisses we shared whenever we were out? Kisses that left me reeling and wanting more every single time?” He paused and locked his gaze with hers. “Tell me, Nat, what should it be?”

“Bohze moi. And here I thought I was the only one to feel that way.”

“Well, doll, hate to tell you that, but sometimes, even you are wrong.”

And before Natasha could come up with a witty remark, Steve pulled her close and kissed her with all the additional strength the serum had given him all those years ago.

*********************

**The End**

*********************


End file.
